


Ghosts That We Knew

by valentinevinyl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A hint of chestervelle, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Bobby SInger - Freeform, Dean Winchester - Freeform, Dean Winchester being incapable of finding healthy coping mechanisms, Drunkenness, Gen, Guilt, Guilty Dean Winchester, Guilty Sam Winchester, Happy Ending, Psychological Trauma, Sam Winchester - Freeform, Trauma, Traumatized Dean Winchester, Traumatized Sam Winchester, Very Emo, charlie bradburry - Freeform, joe harvelle - Freeform, only platonic shit i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:29:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21858334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valentinevinyl/pseuds/valentinevinyl
Summary: Ghosts from their past pay the Winchesters a visit during Christmas' night.
Kudos: 4





	Ghosts That We Knew

**Author's Note:**

> So before you read this, i feel like i should let you know that i changed some things about the ghosts here. They don't really work the way they actually do in the show, but you'll understand what i mean once you read it.

Dean sat by the foot of his motel room bed, a bottle of cheap whiskey he had gotten in some 24 hour store near the motel him and Sam were staying at was in his hand. He didn’t even bother looking at the label on the bottle or anything else, he just wanted a better distraction than the boring things on TV, but he had run out of alcohol already, so a quick run for another bottle became more than necessary.

Sam had left Dean alone with his thoughts almost an hour ago to spare and take a walk outside. Dean insisted with him not to –it was Christmas and he didn’t want to be alone in a stinky motel room in the middle of nowhere- using the excuse that it could be dangerous for Sam to wander alone in the middle of the night, only causing Sam to get more annoyed at his overprotection. Sam had to make a big effort to leave the room; he knew as soon as he left Dean would begin drinking and he didn’t want to be there to watch it. But Dean had started to drink even before Sam left, he just hadn’t done it in front of him yet.

Things had never been easy in their lives, but Christmas was always one of the hardest parts of the year ever since they were kids. Sam just needed to clear his mind and breathe a little, and being stuck in a shitty motel room with his melancholic drunk brother was not the way to do that.

Dean, unlike Sam, wasn’t usually one for taking long walks in the snow to spare. He dreaded being alone with his thoughts and memories and was more into his Christmas tradition of getting drunk until his vision was blurry and crying in secret so his little brother wouldn’t see it and bombard him with questions like “Are you okay?” and “Do you need to talk?” every five minutes.

So now he was sitting on the floor, his back against the bed and the second bottle of whiskey of the day in his hand. Sam had been gone for 20 minutes now. Dean wasn’t even taking sips, he just wanted to feel the liquid burn its way down his throat and make him numb enough until he was passed out on the stained and old wooden floor of his room. With every gulp, he felt lighter, better even. It was a quick fix, but it was what he could do for himself. It was the only way Dean knew how to deal with his problems, since he didn’t really like to talk to anyone about his feelings and spent most of his days focusing on hiding them.

He was already getting close to the half of the bottle and he couldn’t help the tears falling from his eyes. His left hand was covering both of his eyes at once when he could swear he heard a voice calling him. Dean was an experienced hunter, one of the best in the business along with Sam and even drunk he would know if there was a ghost in the room or anything else that he ganked for a living.

But he didn’t feel the temperature of the room drop, he didn’t feel a chill run down his spine and the lights didn’t flicker. Dean was already a little tipsy, but he could’ve sworn there was nothing unusual. The room was still the same. But despite that, Dean still found himself unable to shake the feeling that there someone –or something- in that room with him.

He ignored the sensation and went back to gulping his whiskey. It must’ve just been the alcohol beginning to kick in, maybe he was just paranoid.

The voice called Dean again, but he wasn’t fazed by it. It was a soft and familiar voice the one that kept calling his name. His head was bowed down; he was looking at the floor beneath him when he felt something soft lightly graze his cheek. The touch of whatever it was that had just touched his face vanished in a matter of seconds. Dean threw his head back and stared at the ceiling for a moment before replying to the voice that had been incessantly calling him for the last 45 minutes.

“What do you want from me? What even are you?” Dean asked, slurring a little.

He knew the voice was familiar, but he wasn’t sure of who’s voice it was until the voice answered him.

“I want nothing from you, Dean. Don’t be an idiot. I am just checking if you are okay. I might be dead, but I still care.”

Dean’s eyes widened and he struggled his way up when Jo’s voice filled his ears. She suddenly showed up in front of him, almost making him drop the bottle in his hand.

“What the fuck is going on?” Dean asked, his voice shaky and his breath uneven.

“It’s me, Dean, Jo.”

“But you’re dead. You have been for a while.” He said, taking a look at her. Her hair was just as he remembered, but her eyes had dark circles around them and her skin was awfully pale. “You shouldn’t be here, Jo.”

Jo just smiled at him and reached out a hand to stroke Dean’s features. She traced her fingers over the tear stains on his cheeks and he nuzzled further into her touch. All that was not only emotionally but also physically paining Dean. Although none of it made sense, although it wasn’t happening the way it did with all the other ghosts he had encountered throughout his life and his years of experience and the knowledge he had in his head were telling him there was something wrong about all of this, he didn’t care. Dean just wanted Jo’s hand to never leave his face. He just wanted her to hang on for a little longer so the presence of her spirit could keep on softly killing the longing he had been feeling all these years.

Tears started running down Dean’s face once more, making Jo’s face twist into a frown and her hand fall from his face.

“What’s wrong, Dean?” She asked, her voice soft and sweet in his ears, making his heart twist even more in his ribcage.

“You are dead, Jo.” He explained between sobs while he tried to dry his own tears as they fell. “You have been dead for so long, but you still look the same. You look just as young, and I know that’s how it works but it hurts anyway.”

“Is it my turn already?” Another painfully familiar voice called from behind Dean and Jo, making them both turn their attention to its owner.

Dean could swear that in that moment, his heart stopped for a split second. The voice belonged to Charlie’s ghost, and she was standing a few feet away from them with a little sheepish smile adorning her lips.

“Charlie?” Dean asked, struggling not to stutter.

Charlie took a few steps towards Dean and Jo, her flannel’s sleeves covering her hands just a little as she nervously approached Dean. It was so painful to look at her. Her hair looked the same it did when she died and her clothes were the same she was wearing when Sam and Dean found her body inside a dirty motel bathtub.

“It’s been so long, Dean. I missed you!” Charlie said as she stepped closer to Dean with each word, making him stumble back.

“This can’t be happening. Sam and I burned your body.” Dean said in a rather quiet tone, his wide eyes staring at the spirit of the woman he considered a sister right in front of him. “And you died in that explosion with Helen.” Dean said as he pointed at Jo.

At this point, he had taken so many steps back he was almost against the wall. He was lucky to dodge the bed in the process, otherwise he would’ve fallen right on the floor.

“We don’t know how we got here either, we’re just happy to see you.” Jo said as she crossed her arms in front of her chest and watched as Charlie approached Dean and finally got to touch his face.

Dean slid his back down the wall and sat down on the floor, tears beginning to fall once more. Jo and Charlie exchange a look and both of them sat on each side of him, both of them affectionately rubbing his back on an attempt to calm him down.

“Aren’t you happy to see us?” Charlie asked softly as she ran her hand up and down Dean’s back.

“I-I am.” He replied quietly. “But it hurts so much to see you two. You died because of me and Sam.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Dean.” Charlie said softly.

“We did what he had to do. We died doing what we thought was right.” Jo joined in, trying to ease Dean’s guilt as well.

“No, it was.” Dean said, shaking his head. “Every time someone I love dies, it’s my fault. You guys know that damn well.” Dean chuckled as the bitter words left his lips and he took another sip of his whiskey.

—♡— 

Sam walked on the roadside as the snow coated his long brown hair. He had been walking for a good time now and despite the amount of snow that had gathered over him and his clothes, he couldn’t bring himself to care about it.

He and Dean were really in the middle of nowhere this time, something Sam only realized that the only thing near them was an old 24 hour store and the road that they took to get there.

Sam actually enjoyed spending time alone to think about the things that were bothering him. Just like Dean, he was very afraid of the things his head could come up with and his thoughts were not very comforting either, but quick fixes weren’t his thing and he only felt worse after resorting to them. He couldn’t deal with the things that weighted on his shoulders the way his older brother could.

Sam kept walking through the snow without even paying attention where he was going. He had been walking for over an hour now and he was trying his best not to cry at the thoughts and memories he kept reminiscing in his head.

He heard a voice call his name and whipped his head around with a confused expression on his face. There was nothing behind him besides the darkness of the night and an endless path of snow.

When Sam turned his head back around and kept walking, the voice got louder. Sam thought he was going crazy again and brushed it off.

“When are you going to look at me, idjit?” The voice said and Sam turned around once more with a confused expression on his face.

Bobby was standing just a few feet away from him in the snow. He had on the same clothes he did the last time him and Dean saw his ghost and burned the flask Bobby was attached to. Even the cap was still the same.

Bobby stepped closer to Sam, who was standing still in the same spot. He was so confused he didn’t know how to react or what to say. When he came back to reality, Bobby was right in front of him.

“Hey, Sam!” Bobby said as he stood in front of him, the same smile he saw in Bobby’s face while he grew up whenever he was with them was now on Bobby’s lips once more.

“Bobby? You shouldn’t be here.” Sam said in a confused tone, still trying to process everything.

“Wow, I’m happy to see you too.” Bobby retorted, feeling slightly offended by Sam’s reaction.

“No, I mean, I’m happy to see you again, but- you shouldn’t be here. You are dead.”

“Yeah, kid, I know I’m dead. No need to remind me.” Bobby said as he watched a small smile form on Sam’s lips.

“But how did you even get here? Weren’t you supposed to be in heaven?”

“Weren’t you supposed to be with your brother?” Bobby asked, knitting his eyebrows together.

“Dean is getting drunk like he does every Christmas and I needed to get some air.” Sam explained, taking a look at his surroundings.

“Well, that sounds fun.” Bobby retorted.

“But I still don’t know how you are here, Bobby. Dean threw the flask your spirit was attached to in a fireplace. I was there with him.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know either, kid. One moment I was in heaven; the other I was standing just a few feet away from you.”

Sam chuckled and for a while, they were both in silence and Sam can feel the tears forming in his eyes as he tries to hold them back.

“Is everything okay, Sam? How’s Dean?”

“He is the same as always.” Sam said with a slightly sad face. “He still drinks too much and doesn’t let anything out.”

“That’s the Dean I knew.” Bobby says and lets out a chuckle.

“Sam?” A feminine, soft voice calls from somewhere behind them and both Sam and Bobby turn to look in its direction.

Sam’s face drops as he sees Jess’s ghost standing behind him and Bobby.

“Jess?” He asks, not really believing his eyes. Jess shakes her head and the tears Sam had been holding back find their way out, running through his cheeks. 

Sam run in Jess’s direction and when they are face to face, he still can’t believe what’s happening, but he doesn’t dare to complain. Jess reaches out a hand to stroke Sam’s cheeks and hair as he closes his eyes and melts into her touch.

“It’s been so long.” He mutters through the tears as Jess cracks a smile.

“Too long.” She whispers back at him.

Sam keeps sobbing for a while, letting Jess’s fingers caress him.

“I’m so sorry, Jess.” Sam says and he can feel his heart breaking in the exact same spots it broke so many years ago.

“What for?” She asks softly.

“You deserved better. I’m sorry I let that happen.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Sam. There’s no way you could’ve known.”

—♡— 

Sam is back at the motel, his heart is still beating fast inside his chest and he still can’t believe what happened to him. His nose is freezing and he just wants to come inside, warm himself up and go to bed, hoping it was all a dream, but he knows that the moment he walks through the door, he will encounter something he doesn’t want to.

He takes a deep breath and his hand that’s holding the doorknob twists it and he steps inside.

What he finds is not his brother passed out on the floor or even with an alcohol poisoning. The first thing he sees is his brother getting up from the bed as he yells his name.

“I just had the craziest night, dude.” Dean says as he runs up to Sam.

“Yeah, me too.” Sam says with a chuckle.

“But there’s no way it was crazier than mine.” Dean says as he walks back to his bed and plops down, watching a smile form on Sam’s lips.

“What happened?”

“Charlie and Jo visited me.” Dean told his brother and Sam’s eyebrows drew together.

“What? You too?” Sam asked, confusion taking over him again.

“What do you mean ‘me too’?” Dean asks, making air quotes. “I’m the one of us who is currently drunk, Sammy.”

“Well, Bobby and Jess visited me while I was walking outside.”

Deans face dropped and Sam mirrored his expression. They stayed in silence for a while, both of them staring at the floor.

“Did it hurt for you too?” Dean asks quietly.

“Yeah, it did.” Sam admits, letting out a chuckle.

The Winchesters exchanged a sad look and Dean got up from his spot on his bed, Sam doing the same.

“You know what?” Dean asked Sam as he walked towards the table in the room and sat down while Sam grabbed him a bottle of water from the fridge. “It hurt, but I was happy to see them.”

“Yeah, me too.” Sam said with a little grin and sat down on a chair across Dean.

They were in silence again and Dean started playing with the bottle. He took a sip and stared at the plastic bottle in his hands.

“Sammy?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re still here.” Dean said as he got up from his chair and gave his brother a pat on the back. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” Sam replied as he watched his brother walk towards the bathroom.

The Winchesters never had much, never had many people either, and the ones they had they lost throughout the years. But they still had each other and that was more than enough.


End file.
